“I’m not sure I’m that far on team Nate yet”—Ruby taps her glass against Ashleigh’s—“but I can get behind Collins hooking up with anybody other than Peter fucking Hanson.”
The urge to crawl under the table returns full force as Ashleigh and Ruby start to discuss my imaginary sexual adventures.
“Okay okay okay!” I interrupt their crude debate and clink our cups together. “Cheers!”
We all take giant gulps of the perfect cocktail and groan in unison before the band finally takes to the stage. As the first chords of music rip through the space, I look at my friends and can’t believe a day that started with me crying in my room has ended like this.
* * *
? ? ?
The rain started with a drizzle and quickly turned into a downpour, forcing us from the rooftop patio to the inside of an Uber.
This driver isn’t nearly as awesome as the one who took us downtown, but it’s raining and I appreciate his focus. After dropping off Ruby at her hotel not too far from our houses, he takes his time navigating the wet suburban side streets.
“I’ll just get out with you,” I say to Ashleigh as we pull up to her house. “I’d feel like an idiot having him pull forward a few hundred feet.”
While exercise is one of my least favorite pastimes and I’ll never pass up an escalator for stairs, this feels ridiculous even to me. Plus, Ashleigh tried to keep up with Ruby tonight and I’m not sure she’ll make it to her door without my assistance.
The driver pulls up to Ashleigh’s house and slides into her driveway. It’s only a few feet, but it makes a huge difference. Ashleigh may be tiny, but she’s almost totally deadweight, and if I had to start at the street, there’s a good chance we would’ve gone down.
My finger hasn’t even left the doorbell before Grant swings open the door and takes her weight from me. His expression is a mixture of relief, amusement, and love. I don’t know what was in those drinks, but watching Grant and Ashleigh makes my heart squeeze a little bit. I’m glad she has that.
He closes the door behind them and I hurry to the sidewalk. Between the empty streets and flashes of lightning in the distance, it feels a little eerie being outside alone. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating this side of the street, and when I chance a look in the other direction, I can’t help but notice Nate’s porch light is the only one on the entire street that’s still on.
I look back to my parents’ dark house, my key sitting in my purse ready for me to use, and know that’s where I should go. But for some reason, when my feet move, they take me in the opposite direction.
The closer I get to Nate’s house, the more of a mistake I know it is. But for some reason, I can’t stop myself. Not when I get to his paved walkway. Not as I pass the pruned bushes. Not as I push down on the doorbell and listen to it ring over and over again until I see a hallway light turn on through the window.
Nate swings the door open and stills when he sees me. He’s not wearing a shirt. Loose-fitting pajama bottoms hang low on his hips and I struggle to keep my eyes where they belong.
“Collins?” His voice is sleepy, but his eyes are alert. “It’s late. Are you okay? Why are you standing in the rain?”
“I heard what you said to Angela. Thank you.” My hands fidget by my sides as longing and lust I’ve hidden away for years claw their way to the surface. “But you know I still hate you, right?”
“Yup.” His eyes drop to my chest. My light cotton tee has molded to my breasts and I feel my nipples harden beneath his gaze. “I hate you too.”
“Good,” I say between heavy breathing.
“Good,” Nate repeats.
And that’s all we say.
Because it’s kind of hard to talk with our lips smashed together and our tongues in each other’s mouths.
Chapter 17
The only reason I know the door closed is because my back is pressed against it.
My hands explore his bare back, my nails scraping across the smooth skin. His hands roam my hips and thighs until they make their way to my ass. His fingers press into my ample behind and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his hips, clinging on to him. I pull his face to mine, biting his lower lip before our tongues thrash in a battle for dominance. Nothing about it is gentle, but it’s hot as fuck and I’m desperate for more.
“Collins.” Nate pulls his mouth away for long enough to get the single word out, and I miss it immediately. “What is this?”
This is nothing and it’s everything. I can’t stand him, but I need him. I’ve wanted this with him since I knew this existed, and now that I’ve had a taste of what being with him could be like, I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough.
“It doesn’t have to be anything.” I’m trying to focus, to say words that make sense, but all I can feel is his impressive length growing beneath me. I rock my hips against him, trying to sate the need building between my thighs.
“Fuck.” He groans and I can feel it vibrating through his body. He drops his head and bites down on my shoulder; the slight sting of his teeth makes my toes curl. He stands like this for a few seconds and I listen as his breathing slows. “I need to know you really want this. I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.”
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.
But of course I don’t tell him that.
“I came to your house, Nate.” I remind him of the facts as I struggle to keep my hips still. “I want this and if I regret it in the morning, then I’ll deal with it then. But right now, right here? I would really like it if you took your pants off.”
His eyebrows jump in surprise before his eyes darken and his lips curl into the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen. It’s confident and cocky, and if I know one thing about Nate, it’s that he doesn’t tend to make promises he can’t deliver on.
“Well, if that’s what you want, far be it from me to deprive you.”
He sets me back on the floor and takes a small step backward. My legs feel like Jell-O and I have to use the door behind me to support my body. I watch, enraptured, as he slowly unties the drawstring on his pajamas before they fall to the floor and his massive erection springs to life.
“Holy shit,” I whisper in his foyer. “I didn’t expect that to be hiding beneath your khakis.”
I’ll never be able to look at him in his casual business attire the same way ever again.
“Weren’t you the one who warned me never to judge a book by the cover?” There’s laughter in his voice, but I have no idea if he’s smiling or not. All my attention is focused on the way his hand is stroking his impressive length.
My thighs push together, trying—and failing—to find even the smallest amount of relief. “Lesson learned.”
I take a moment to fully appreciate the man standing in front of me. I had a glimpse of his body when I saw him out walking, but completely devoid of clothes and distractions, it takes it to a whole new level. It’s a thing of beauty, really. The softness of his belly doesn’t distract from the strength in his body. His thickly corded quads stand out on his thighs even with his relaxed stance. His biceps flex with every stroke, the bulging muscle evident but not overwhelming. It’s a body that’s cared for but not obsessed over, and I love every single inch of it.